Seth, too choked up to speak, but too proud to admit it, started to pack away their things and they soon headed out. It was a long while before conversation resumed.
——————————-∞——————————-
The room they entered was full of dust, causing Sam to cough. They had brought lamps with them, but there was no need to light them. They pulled aside a heavy curtain covering a large window, illuminating the room. To their surprise, they were in a kitchen. Pots and pans were on shelves above a small workbench, with a set of drawers beneath. On the other side of the room was what appeared to be a large oven, with a fire pit beneath it, and in the middle stood a small dining table with four chairs. Apart from dust and cobwebs, everything looked to have been cleaned and tidied, as though the owner knew they would not be coming back.
Sam and Selene looked at each other in wonder. “It’s a cottage. Why on Earth would your great grandmother have a cottage in the middle of her garden?”
Selene shook her head, bewildered. “Maybe she was having an affair with the gardener,” she replied, mischievously. “Come on. Let us see what other rooms there are.”
Further exploration found two small bedrooms, each with a wardrobe, chest of drawers and washstand with basin. The first contained a small double bed, and the second a single, each with bedding neatly folded on top of it. At the other end of the house was a small lounge with a couple of comfortable chairs and a coffee table. The biggest surprise was the workroom. Selene gasped in wonder as she entered. Paintings hung on every wall, most of them garden scenes, and there was an easel propped in the corner. Small paint pots lined shelves on one side of the room, above a low cabinet. Selene opened up one of the doors and found neatly laid out brushes of various sizes and a mixing pallet.
“What was your great grandmother’s name?” Sam asked, looking closely at one of the paintings.
“Marie. Marie Callen. At least she was after she married my great grandfather. Why do you ask?”
“Come here,” Sam called, waving Selene toward her. “Just take a look at the signature on this painting.”
“It says Marie Callen,” Selene exclaimed, then looked at another. “So does this one, and this.”
“Your great grandmother was a wonderful painter. Maybe she had this cottage built so she could paint in peace.”
“Maybe. We should take some of these pictures back to show father. Take a look in the other side of that cabinet for some cloth that I can wrap them in.”
Sam obeyed, but found nothing of use. There were also a couple of drawers, so she tried those as well. The first was a little stiff but eventually it opened. Inside was an old piece of paper, neatly folded and sealed shut with wax. Sam removed it and tried to read the writing on the outside.
“Err Selene,” she called, quietly. “This says ‘last will and testament of Marie Callen, Queen of Emvale’.” She looked up at Selene, who was looking at her in surprise. “If this is genuine, we have just found your great grandmother’s will.”
Chapter 16
Allias was in his study, carefully studying the wax on the document. “It looks genuine to me,” he finally declared. “It has the official royal seal, my grandmother’s personal seal and the seal of the royal chief steward.”
“So what do we do now?” Selene asked, excitedly.
“We call the immediate family together and have Halvine read it. Officially it is the chief steward’s job to not only witness every royal will, but also to be the official reader.”
Soon Sam found herself in one of the reception rooms with Selene, Rupert, Hetta and Allias, all anxiously awaiting the arrival of Halvine. “Are you sure I am allowed to be here?” Sam whispered to Selene, who nodded her head and shushed her; she had heard footsteps approaching. The door opened and Halvine formally strode in, closing it behind him. The will was neatly tucked under his arm.
He took a seat, making sure he was comfortable before speaking. “Prince Everet has been contacted and gave his permission for me to proceed without him.”
Selene whispered to Sam, noticing her confused frown. “A few years ago, some wizards invented these small boxes that can be used to communicate over long distances. They are rare, but father managed to obtain a pair and made my brother take one with him when he left home.”
“If the Princess has quite finished,” Halvine continued, causing Selene to go red. “The seals have been authenticated. Unless a later dated one is found, this is indeed the last will and testament of Queen Marie. If there are no objections, I shall now read it to you.”
“Oh just get on with it will you,” Allias snapped jovially, as eager as any of them to hear the contents.
Halvine broke the seals and unfolded the document. He quickly read the first few lines, frowning in obvious confusion. He did not like what he was reading. Before Allias had chance to complain, however, he started to read out loud.
“I, Felix Gondal, chief steward to King Harrold, do solemnly swear that this a true statement of the wishes of Queen Marie in regard to distribution of her assets upon her death.”
“Harrold was my grandfather,” Allias informed Sam. “Is there a date on the will?”
“It is dated two weeks before Queen Marie’s death. I looked up the date in the library just before coming here. That wizard you have staying with you and the lady who always seems to be in there with him were getting very excited about something by the way.”
“Yes yes, you can tell me all about that later. Please continue reading.”
Halvine did as instructed. “There is some legal jargon that I am sure you will not mind if I skip. It is just there to make the will official.” Seeing Allias nod, he continued. “Here is the part that you really want to hear. To my granddaughter-in-law, Hetta, I leave my wedding ring. This is to be passed on to her daughter who, at the time of this reading, is getting impatient to be born.”
The entire room stared at Halvine. Allias was the first to find his voice. “What!” he stammered. “That is not possible. Heather, my first wife, was still alive when grandmother died. I had not even met Hetta.”
Halvine shrugged his shoulders. “I am only reading what is written here.”
“I remember being told that great grandmother always claimed she could predict the future,” Rupert announced. “Maybe she was telling the truth.”
Sam looked at Hetta, smiling. “If that is the case, then you are going to have a daughter, your Majesty.”
“Oh god, not another girl. One is bad enough.” Allias winked at his daughter, who grinned back. “Please continue Halvine.”
“My ruby broach I leave to Sam, for being a good friend to Selene in her time of need. All my other jewellery is to be split equally between Selene, Mia and Rupert’s wife, thought I will not spoil the surprise by letting you know who she is. All of my possessions can be found in the storeroom where the key to my cottage was found.”
Halvine turned to Sam and Selene. “You are the only ones who have been in that storeroom for years,” he stated. “Was there a ruby broach?”
Sam shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry, no idea. I was too busy looking for the key to take much notice of anything else.”
“I saw a few red broaches, but I cannot be certain any contained rubies. We will take a look when we have finished here. You have to admit,” Selene continued, “that this is a pretty interesting will. There is no way this can be genuine, is there?”
“There is no way it can be fake, I am afraid. The seals are genuine. I will compare the signatures to other documents in the library when I have finished here, but I will be very surprised if they do not match. If this was a forgery, the person responsible would have to have obtained Queen Marie’s personal seal, which was, by tradition, buried with her, as well as that of the chief steward, which I can always account for. The third seal, the royal one, is permanently on Allias’s finger, as it is the Royal Ring. The key to the storeroom is always on my belt, or locked in my personal safe when I bathe o
r sleep, and this would be needed to put the key to the cottage among Queen Marie’s things, unless there is a duplicate. On top of that, the culprit would have had to have made the fake will recently, due to the inclusion of Sam. How could they put the will in the cottage in the garden then make the plants and trees regrow to hide it? Only a very powerful wizard could do that. More importantly, why would anyone want to? Nobody has anything important to gain.”
“He may be right,” Allias said, somewhat reluctantly. It was eerie listening to a will written so many years ago referring to the present and the future. “Please, go on. I am interested to hear what other predictions my grandmother got right.”
Halvine cleared his throat. “There is not much more. All of my clothes can be given to the poor. Fashions will have changed so nobody in the family will ever wear them again. Except for my wedding dress. That I leave to Selene, for her to wear at her wedding to Prince Tallon. She will, of course, have to alter it significantly if she wishes to fit into it.”
“That is going too far,” Allias shouted, jumping to his feet and stomping over to Halvine and snatching the will from him. “There is no way my daughter is going to be married to that evil sadistic bastard.” He quickly scanned through the writing until he got to the paragraph that had just been read.
“Go and sit down Allias. You always did doubt my talents, almost as much as you now doubt Selene. I always knew more than I let on. Do I need to mention what happened to your sister’s dolls house?” he read aloud, then stared at his family, stunned. “When I was five, a few months after my sister died, I smashed the dolls house when I was not allowed to play with it. Nobody saw me. One of the dogs got the blame,” he explained, in a quiet voice. “How did she know?”
Halvine retrieved the will and gently pushed the King back toward his chair. When he was seated, the last paragraph was read. “I would appreciate it if my paintings were displayed somewhere in the palace as I think they are quite good. The only other thing I own is my cottage. Of my current three great grandchildren, only Selene will have need of it. Everet and his wife will never again live so close to the palace, which Rupert will, of course, inherit. I thereby bequeath it to Selene, to do with as she wishes, though I suspect she and Tallon will live there for a while, until he takes over his throne.”
Nobody spoke for a long while. Eventually Halvine quietly left the room, heading to the library to look for examples of the two signatures. Allias looked up at Selene. He was once again seething with anger.
“I do not know how you did it, but that piece of paper will not make me believe your story. There is no way a daughter of mine would give herself willingly to a man before marriage, especially the royal scum of Kinfen. Should he ever set foot in Emvale, Prince Tallon will be tried and executed for his crimes.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving Selene yelling after him through her tears.
“I did not do anything. All I did was find the will. You heard Halvine say it could not be a fake.” Knowing he could no longer hear her, she fell silent, curled up in a ball and sobbed.
Hetta was at her side before Sam even had chance to stand up. Pulling her tight toward her, she gently rocked her while uttering soothing words.
“Do not listen to your father. He is in shock. He will come back and apologise to you when he has calmed down.” She looked up at Rupert, beseechingly. “This amount of stress can harm the baby. Please can you take her to her room and I will get the healer to give her a sleeping potion.”
Selene did not protest as Rupert carefully picked her up and carried her to bed, tucking the blanket around her as if she were a child. She was still crying as he softly kissed her forehead. “I believe you sis,” he whispered, before leaving the room. Sam climbed onto the bed beside Selene and cuddled up to her, hoping this would offer some degree of comfort as she knew no words would.
She stayed there, not moving, until the healer arrived. Once Selene had been forced to drink a disgusting looking potion and the healer had left, she lay down again, cuddling Selene, who soon fell asleep. Sam left the room quietly and went in search of Rupert.
The raised voices coming from the King’s study let her know where to find him. Instead of knocking on the door, or leaving to speak to him later, she stood outside, listening. She was soon joined by Hetta, who instructed a servant to bring her a chair so she could listen in comfort. Sam easily identified the three male voices: Allias, Rupert and Halvine.
“I do not give a damn what the will says, Selene will not marry a Kinfenian rapist.”
“That decision is not yours to make father. It is Selene’s decision when and whom to marry.”
“Actually, it is not,” Halvine interrupted. “The law states that the King must approve all royal marriages.”
“Then you risk losing her. Please see some sense. She is carrying his baby and believes she loves him. She will run away to be with him, given the opportunity. You know how women are.”
“How dare you talk about your sister like that,” Allias roared. “She was brought up to honour her father and her country. She would not turn her back on both.”
Seeing this was going nowhere, Rupert tried a different approach. “If you are right about Tallon, then we have nothing to worry about anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Simple. If, as you believe, Selene was brutally raped by him, there is no chance he is going to want to marry her. Only if she is telling the truth will we have a problem.”
Silence descended in the study. Outside, Hetta and Sam looked at each other, both realising what this meant. Any minute now, the door would be opening and neither wanted to be caught eavesdropping. Hetta stood up and Sam grabbed her chair before dashing around the corner. Hetta was only just out of sight when the study door opened and Allias called her back. Her baby was due any day now, causing her to waddle rather than walk. Allias held out his arms to her and, looking a little sheepish, she walked into them.
“I know you have been listening, my dear. I heard the chair move. Halvine has confirmed the signatures are genuine. It looks like my grandmother really could see into the future. All we can do now is wait for Tor to arrive. If his mission was successful, we will either see a wedding or an execution and I dearly hope it will be the latter.”
——————————-∞——————————-
“We should hit the border sometime tomorrow,” Tor stated, looking at the distant hills. “The question is, what time of day is best to try to cross it? Any idea if you will be recognised Tallon?”
“Hopefully not. I am not exactly dressed as a Prince and I have not shaved since I left Bedden. It may still be best to cross at just before dawn or twilight, though, when the light is at its worst; not quite light enough to see properly, but not dark enough to need a fire. Also, guards are usually less alert at those times for some reason.”
Tor chuckled. “Some things never change, no matter what country you are in. I suggest we push on for another few hours then get some sleep.” Nobody disagreed, so he headed off, instructing his horse to head north.
Ria rode closer to Tallon. “For someone who is riding toward almost certain death, you do not seem very concerned; or do you think that King Allias is going to welcome you with open arms?”
“To be honest, I am not expecting to even make it to Vada alive. If anyone at the border recognises me, I will probably be cut down before even touching Amenian soil. Then again, I may make it to the palace. Who knows? My fate is currently out of my hands, so why worry about it?”
Either this man was very brave or very stupid and Ria could not decide which. All she knew was that the more she got to know him, the less she detested him. She could not connect the horror stories she had heard with the man who now rode next to her. One evening, he had told them that the tales they had heard about Kinfen monstrosities were mostly lies or exaggerations and she was beginning to think that he was telling the truth. Alternatively he could just be a good actor,
but she did not think so. She found herself trusting this man; a rare occurrence for her.
Dal rode up, looking forlorn. “Whatever is the matter lad? You look like somebody died.”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, grumpily. “I just miss Seth. I am beginning to have dreams about eating one of his stews. When I close my eyes I can almost smell it.”
Ria closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Actually, I can smell it.” She called out to Tor to call a halt. River, who was sitting in front of him, quickly sniffed the air, then pointed to their left. Without being asked, Tor’s horse changed direction. The sun was beginning to rise and Tor thought he could make out a small column of smoke.
As they got closer, Dal let out a shout of joy and galloped off. By the time the others caught up, he was sitting by the fire, tucking into a bowl of stew.
“Well this is an unexpected surprise,” Tor said, dismounting. “I hope you have enough for everyone.”
“Sorry, Dal took the last bit, but I have just started another batch and it should be ready in half an hour, if you do not mind waiting,” Seth replied.
“Good to see you boy,” Grimmel said, slapping him on the back. “How did you get here ahead of us?”
“Easy. The wagon moves quite fast on the main roads, which we have been travelling openly. You may have been able to go faster than us, but I bet you have been keeping hidden, stopping whenever you heard someone approaching.” Grimmel nodded. “That delayed you more than you imagined. We were able to keep going, without any delays, so slowly closed the lead you had on us.”
As promised, half an hour later, the stew was ready and Tor, Tallon, Patrick, Ria, Modo and Grimmel were tucking in. It tasted wonderful. During the meal, they discussed their exploits since parting and it was agreed that they would stick together for the rest of the journey. Tor argued that the others should go ahead, leaving him and Tallon to risk the border crossing alone, but only Tallon agreed with him. As he had no authority to tell the others what to do, he eventually backed down.
The Guide Page 21